


Steal The Light

by orphan_account



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Modern AU, More characters to be added, dystopian au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 09:31:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3524222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's wearing flowers not snakes up in her hair tonight<br/>                                                     .......................................<br/>                                         Now sirens and the marching bands sing</p>
<p>Drogo is lonely in a world that is similar to the one that he knew as a child but not quite the same. He longs for someone to share it with, to make it the one that he looks backs on and misses each night he's sleeping. That's where Daenerys comes in. She's not the china doll he imagines her to be at first but really? That works out in their favour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steal The Light

**Author's Note:**

> Now it may seem that any sexy times that go on are non-con however I can confirm that everything that is detailed within this story will have characters giving full (and enthusiastic) consent.

The birth rate had ground to a halt. Men and women everywhere seeming to not be able to conceive no matter how hard they tried, theirs bodies simply not complying with their wishes to the point of rejecting fertility pills and refusing to even produce the necessary reproductive cells that were needed for conceiving. It was a difficult few years of no births before the governments across the world found small pockets of people that were still able to have children through some unusual anomaly in their DNA. They became almost like cattle, being bought and sold like they were simply machines, some going to husbands and wives, acting as a third parent, others going to people had a fetish for the thrill of maybe getting someone pregnant, maybe not. Then there were the single parents that hadn't been able to find love and were in want of a family. Generally they were the most tender of pairings, however, they were rare to come across as well.

That was Drogo's situation. He didn't want to let his family line stop with him and knew that at 35 this was one of his best chances of finding love. So he signed up for one of the services that offered partners that were able to bear children. It had been a lengthy process as it wasn't like the women that were subjected to this had absolutely no choice, they were shown photos of potential partners and chose those they thought themselves to be most compatible and well, the person on the other end just ended up with whoever they ended up with. He'd gotten nice photos and written out a description for himself before waiting for a good few weeks, waiting for what he hoped would be good news. The letter came one day and it simply bore one name, Daenerys Targaryen.

'Her name's cooler than mine' was the first thought that he had, quickly followed by 'holy shit I'm gonna have kids' the second thought was promptly followed by whooping and hollering around the house, something he would reverently deny should anyone ask. Eventually he settled down and he had to look back down at the complicated name that was printed in middle grade ink on the Middle grade paper, leaving him to the thoughts of mortification that came with him imagining meeting Daenerys for the first time and mispronouncing her name horribly. Oh god. They really should include phonetic guides with these things. 

There were a stupid amount of things to prepare for when you knew that there was someone coming to live with you. You had to consider colour schemes and ways that you arranged the kitchen furniture then that all had to be rethought because what if they didn't like the way that you positioned the fruit bowl? Drogo spent hours, days, looking at colour swatches and making sure that nothing needed a fresh coat of paint, hoping to god that this would be enough to please his partner. He refused to be one of those people that didn't treat their partner like a person just because they'd paid to have them here. The whole reason Daenerys was here was because he wanted her to be. He hoped to make it so that she wanted to be here too — really, was under no illusions about the women’s interest in being here but he hoped that he could help Daenerys realise how much really really cared for her and appreciated what she would be doing for him. 

———————————  
The Day came with too much haste and Drogo was just a teensy bit worried about the way things sat in the rooms of the house and whether or not he should have set up a nursery or not (a question that had actually kept him up more nights than he would care to admit) and as the arrival of Daenerys actually approached there actually seemed to be more and more things that he was completely unsure of.

The couch was at just the wrong angle from the TV and even the TV was just at the wrong high on the wall. Not to mention the bed in his room. He’d gotten a new wooden frame that he’d draped silks over because it had said in the letter that Daenerys was from a particular part of the states where people there had particular problems with mosquitos. Even though he didn’t ever get bitten he’d bought a net and hung it over the bed carefully. Not that he was denying that it looked pretty awesome, he just wasn’t going to confirm that it did.

Eventually he couldn’t put it off, looking around the modern apartment with a sigh, running his hands over the mahogany table that held the obligatory little bowl that contained useless things and keys belonging to things he’d long forgotten. This was it. Drogo was going to meet Daenerys today. He was going to meet her and they were going to start their new life together. Turning away from looking out the wall to floor windows he headed out the front door, and from there turning to walk down the hall to the elevator. A ‘ping’ went off in his pocket and he found himself dreading actually picking up his phone and looking at the text. He did anyways. 

‘She’s here and she says high. Also some comments about the size of the building that were less than ladylike.’ the message read, sending a grin across his face. Anyone that could be that upfront about things was someone that he liked. Bravery was good.

Bravery was kind of sexy.

No one came into the lift so Drogo was free to jump from foot to foot, nervously tugging at his braids and dreads in the mirror. He knew that he looked fine and the half formal outfit that he was wearing was enough to make even him want to make out in the mirror and he was like the straightest man to ever straight straight (that did sound a little far fetched but he was sure of his sexuality).

The elevator doors opened.

…

Holy shit she was beautiful.

Drogo’s mouth dropped and he had to take a moment to watch her, watch the way that she breathed and the way that her hand slowly moved up to touch her lips which were now curling into a smile. He wouldn’t say something awkward, he was determined of that much, so instead he just said nothing, waving softly at her as he swiftly stepped out of the small room, realising that the doors had begun to close while he was just standing there staring. Way to not seem really creepy and well, just generally unpleasant. This was going better than expected.

Smiling softly he pushed his ponytail of dreads behind his head and offered a hand. He knew that most other men were probably a little more warm in their welcoming but he figured that he’d at least give the woman a chance to get to know him before he went ahead and made any assumptions.

“My name is Drogo,” he said with a warm smile, tilting his head to the side in a way that he hoped seemed hospitable instead of the calculating evaluating glance that it felt right. Instead of taking a chance he just adjusted his head.

“Daenerys,” she answered, perfectly soft, slightly chapped lips forming just the right syllables around the name, giving Drogo an idea of what to actually say.

“Daenerys,” he repeated with a small frown, fumbling a little with the name but the little hope in his eyes showed just how much effort he was putting in.

The men had long since left and Daenerys was left standing in the foyer, a slightly awkward distance away from Drogo, her face split into a grin as she watched him. “Close enough I suppose, although you can always call me Dany,” she explained, looking at him briefly and then the floor and then her feet, wriggling her toes awkwardly before nodding towards the elevator.

“Can we go up to your place do I just have to stand here while you clearly check me out?” her eyebrow raised, watching Drogo with a cheeky smile, hoping that he was able to catch the jest in her voice, not wishing to upset him; poor guy already seemed nervous as hell.

Drogo jumped and Dany lowered her eyebrow, she wasn’t a china doll, she may look it, but this guy didn’t need to be tripping over himself in an effort to impress her. It was sweet but really, completely, totally unnecessary. “Oh shit, yeah, shit. Fuck, sorry, ugh, I really should stop swearing, it’s a really bad habit that I have,” Drogo said with a weak laugh, looking at the ground in an effort to avoid Daenerys’ gaze, stepping aside to allow the other passed.

Dany walked until she was standing beside Drogo, tipping her whole body forwards in an almost mockery of a bow as she looked under Drogo’s hair and caught a glimpse of his face. “Drogo, you really don’t need to do the whole ‘I’m a responsible upper middle class guy thing. That kind of got shot to hell when you kept the dreads. What I want to see is that you’re a nice guy. A decent dad,” she said softly, blinking up at him. She straightened when he did and well, Drogo would readily admit that he fulfilled all cheesy clichés when he took her hand and started leading her towards the elevator, blindingly bright smile on his face.


End file.
